BONA VENTURE 
























BONA VENTURE 


Copyrighted 

1929 



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BONA VENTURE 


BY 

MAY CAMERON QUINBY 



PUBLISHED BY 
THE J. W. BURKE COMPANY 
MACON, GA. 

1929 


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A 


©cn 13502 




SEP 2 3 1929 





In Memory to 
MY FATHER 
An Inspiring Companion 
Along Many Good Roads 


BONA VENTURE 

CHAPTER I 

O N the steps of a shabby house, in a street of 
shabby houses, a boy sat reading an adven¬ 
ture story, in the late afternoon of a warm August 
day. To the passerby Bert Ransom had only the 
appearance of an ordinary thirteen-year-old boy. 
But in imagination he was just now a stalwart man 
making his way through the jungles of the Ama¬ 
zon, seeing strange animals and trees, gorgeously- 
colored birds and flowers, enduring the heat and 
torrential rains of the tropics and risking unknown 
dangers, so that, with his comrades, he might 
bring back scientific knowledge which would bene¬ 
fit mankind. 

But the light was growing dim, with clouds 
gathering over the sun, so closing the book, but 
still tingling with the thrill of it, he jumped from 
the top step, over a struggling rose-bush, and ran 
around to the backyard, where he set about the 
never-finished task of weeding the small garden. 
It is strange what vigorous weeds can grow in the 
poorest soil. But they must not interfere with the 


8 


BONA VENTURE 


three rows of lima beans and the tomato plants 
which Mother was counting on for another month 
at least. And where the peas and early carrots had 
been, Father had planted late cabbage which could 
be harvested, too, for winter use. Docks and pig¬ 
weed were easier to pull if you pretended that each 
was a rare tropical specimen and were careful to 
get every bit of root out. 

A trim path led along the fence where nastur¬ 
tiums grew and a red geranium, and three tall 
sunflowers which were splendid to look at now, 
and would furnish seed for Mother to put on a lit¬ 
tle shelf outside the window where she sewed in 
winter, so the birds would come there. Even if they 
were mostly sparrows, she liked to watch them. 
And sometimes a junco or a winter wren came. 
Once last winter there was a snowflake for three 
successive days, and when he didn’t come again, 
Mother sighed but said his feathers were already 
growing shabby in our smoke, so she hoped he had 
found a place where the air was clear and the 
snow was clean. 

As Bart stretched his. bent back and looked 
across the fences, he could see no other yard so 
nice as his own. But Father and Mother liked to 
work there and knew how to make things grow, 


BONA VENTURE 


9 


for they had lived in the country years ago. Only 
now Mother could not do so much, for leaning 
over made her cough so and she tired easily. Ma¬ 
rian was in the kitchen now, helping with supper, 
and six-year-old Roger was running to the gate to 
be ready to meet Father, for the factory whistle 
was blowing. 

By the time factory grease and garden dirt had 
been washed away, supper was steaming on the 
table with an appetizing savor. Father always had 
something interesting to tell about the day’s ex¬ 
periences. One wouldn’t have thought so many in¬ 
teresting things could happen inside the drab walls 
of a work shop. Today a man, whose name ranks 
high in the nation as president of a large manu¬ 
facturing concern in a distant city, was visiting the 
plant, and as he was being shown through by two 
of the local officers, he stopped close to John Ran¬ 
som’s bench to tell them of a new machine which 
his firm was trying out, and of several important 
problems on which they were working, all of them 
very interesting. 

After supper had been cleared away and they 
were all settled for an hour around the table, with 
the spicy fragrance of nasturtiums from the little 
bowl in the center, Roger brought from his toy- 
shelf a highly-colored automobile advertisement. 


10 


BONA VENTURE 


At the top was the caption, “It makes the world 
yours.” Below were shiny sedans and touring cars 
gliding along smooth roads, with lakes and moun¬ 
tain scenery. “I found it on Mrs. Emerson’s steps, 
and she said I could keep it. Wouldn’t you like to 
ride so, Father?” But at the bottom of the sheet 
something had caught Father’s eye, a box-like 
building on wheels, with small windows in the 
sides and steps at the rear. In a note underneath 
he read, “Fifty-four of these cars took families to 
Florida last winter. Comfortable accomodations 
for day and night.” 

All the next day while John Ransom worked at 
his factory bench his thoughts kept wandering. 
Before him was constantly a vision of Martha 
away from the cold and the smoke, growing well 
and strong again in clean air and sunshine. At mo¬ 
ments the idea seemed preposterous, the cost, the 
uncertainty of finding work for himself and school 
for the children. But always the thought of a 
chance for Martha overbalanced all the rest. At 
night he wrote a letter to get the actual facts about 
the traveling house. Hope and fear alternated for 
three days. Then came an answer, not in a letter, 
but in a man, a local agent of a firm in another 
city. For two hours they talked and at the end of 
that time instead of a dream there was a plan. 


CHAPTER II 


"MfoVEMBER first was set for the start and 
a two-weeks’ route was mapped out which 
would take them across their own Ohio, through 
Kentucky, Tennessee and Georgia, and so to Jack¬ 
sonville, Florida, where inquiries at the Chamber 
of Commerce might bring some information about 
the best sections of the state for work; or, if not, 
they must try their luck. At least there would be a 
roof over their heads, a mild climate, and a small 
nest-egg left in the bank, to be drawn on only in 
case of emergencies. John and Martha Ransom, 
brought up in the stern school of hard work and 
self-denial, had always refused to live up to their 
modest income, as many of their city friends were 
doing. So this opportunity found them ready, with 
sufficient savings to make the experiment which 
might mean so much in restored health for Mar¬ 
tha and a valuable experience for them all. But 
there must be careful planning. An aunt in a small 
town only twenty-five miles away could store their 
furniture in her ample store-room and barn. Stout 
overalls for Father and the boys and easily ironed 
dresses for Mother and Marian were all the 


12 


BONA VENTURE 


clothes that need be bought. Last year’s hats and 
wraps and Sunday apparel, with a little refurbish¬ 
ing, would serve nicely. 

Wooden boxes were packed with such food- 
supplies as could be bought to best advantage in 
the city. Father’s tool-chest and Mother’s most 
necessary cooking utensils and sewing materials, 
and a few books and games for evenings were all 
packed in the smallest and most convenient form. 
A plan of the car made this easier, as all the di¬ 
mensions of storage space were given. 

The Public Library yielded a small selection of 
books about Florida and the states through which 
they would travel. They studied these and the at¬ 
las until the places seemed very real. Their neigh¬ 
bors and church friends and the children’s teachers 
became interested, and bits of information and ex¬ 
perience turned up here and there. 

On the Saturday before their start the car ar¬ 
rived in town and Mr. Ransom spent his half-holi¬ 
day learning all the details of its operation. For¬ 
tunately when the factory shut down for six weeks 
the year before, he had taken a job with a truck¬ 
ing company and had learned to run their heavy 
cars. At six o’clock he drove up in front of the 
house, and all ran out to see their new home. Al- 


BONA VENTURE 


13 


though bare-looking now, Mrs. Ransom was sure 
she could make it home-like with the scrim curtains 
she had made for the windows, the two rugs and 
the two small but comfortable chairs reserved for 
that use. The children would not mind the camp 
chairs which could be folded up when not needed. 
The beds, which folded too, proved wide enough 
for comfort, and the boys were delighted with 
their double-decks. 

Ventilation was well arranged and there was an 
electric heater for cool mornings and evenings. 
This seemed the one real luxury, but proved its 
worth in comfort. The stove for cooking was in a 
corner and there were shelves and a folding table; 
but they would enjoy many meals out of doors. A 
surprising amount of space was left under the 
driver’s seat for suit-cases and boxes. 

How the neighbors crowded around, and what 
fun it was to explain everything to them. Suppers 
were late in Wren Street that night. But at half 
past seven Mr. Ransom drove the car to the ga¬ 
rage, to come back on Monday morning for the 
final packing. That was accomplished by noon, and 
the van had started for Aunt Ann’s. Mr. Ransom 
followed on the suburban trolly, to help unload 
and store the furniture. Mrs. Ransom had a good 


14 


BONA VENTURE 


rest at a friend’s where she and Mr. Ransom and 
Roger would spend the night, while Marian and 
Bert each stayed with a school friend. 

At eight o’clock the next morning they were all 
together again, with a group of friends to see them 
off. There were gifts of good things to eat to last 
for days. The men in Mr. Ransom’s shop had 
given him a flashlight and a thermos bottle. The 
children had their gifts too, and all appreciated. 
Marian was especially delighted with the Brownie 
Kodak from her class at school, and the first pic¬ 
ture taken was a group of the class and Miss 
Chester. 

School books, pads and pencils had been stowed 
away in a convenient place and Mother had con¬ 
sulted with Bert’s and Marian’s teachers, and had 
carefully arranged lists of work for the weeks 
which might pass before they would have a settled 
abode again where they could attend school. 

There had been much discussion over a name 
for the car, and a final decision in favor of Bona 
Venture, for such they hoped it would be. The 
children had wanted it emblazoned on the side of 
the car, but that was vetoed by Father’s modesty, 
with the promise that sometime when they could 
find a good board and some paint, they would 


BONA VENTURE 


15 


make a small sign to fasten on somewhere. It was 
a surprise to them all when a neighboring painter 
brought over a neat little sign, the background just 
the shade of the car and the letters in green. It had 
rings and hooks by which it fastened on the side of 
the driver’s seat, and seemed just the finishing 
touch needed. 


CHAPTER III 


AND so the goodbyes were said and they were 
xYoft. Through the city streets people stopped to 
look at the unusual car, some, they were sure, with 
a touch of envy of the adventurers. Then a long, 
straight road led through a suburban residence 
district with broad lawns and fine houses, and for 
the rest of the morning through open country and 
small towns. At noon they stopped on the outskirts 
of a college town, and with appetites sharpened by 
the clear fall air, thoroughly enjoyed chicken and 
ham sandwiches, hot cocoa from the thermos bot¬ 
tle and, to top the repast, a fresh cranberry pie 
with juicy lattice crust. A pair of squirrels frisked 
in the dry leaves nearby and bluejays screamed 
from the tree tops. It was all thoroughly delight¬ 
ful, and they scattered a little feast of crumbs for 
hospitality. 

While Mother and Marian washed the dishes, 
Father and Bert gave the Bona Venture a careful 
inspection to see that all was in perfect order. 
Then they locked up their house and went for a 
walk through the town. Pleasant old-fashioned 
houses were set well back from the street, with 


BONA VENTURE 


17 


broad green lawns, great oak trees with bronze 
leaves, and hardy chrysanthemums in the borders. 

In the center of the town were the college build¬ 
ings. Winding walks led through the campus. The 
gray stone walls were weathered by years of serv¬ 
ice, and the steps were hollowed by three genera¬ 
tions of students. But ivy and sweetbrier covered 
scars and added charm to the simple dignity of the 
architecture. Groups of young men passed con¬ 
stantly from class to class, and once a track team 
ran by on their way to the athletic field for an 
hour’s practice. Bert thought he could do as well, 
but soon found himself outdistanced and out of 
breath, with Roger panting along some distance 
behind. 

As they came back toward the entrance, they 
sat down for a few minutes on a rustic bench which 
gave a lovely vista of the whole campus. The at¬ 
mosphere seemed full of the beauty of nature and 
the dignity of knowledge. Across the green, rose 
the graceful tower of the Chapel. The hands of 
the great clock reached the hour and two deep 
tones sounded. Then chimes began, the clear notes 
rising and falling for a full minute. Instinctively 
they all rose, and only when the last note floated 
out across the campus, turned back toward the car. 


18 


BONA VENTURE 


Through the sunny afternoon mile after mile 
rolled away behind them, and at six o’clock they 
came in sight of the town where they were to 
spend the night. After supper they found their 
way to the boarding-house to which they had 
written; for Mother and Marian and Roger were 
to spend the nights indoors until the weather was 
warmer. After an hour in the living-room with its 
crackling wood fire, and a glance over the evening 
paper, Mr. Ransom and Bert returned to the Bona 
Venture and were glad of warm blankets, for the 
night was frosty. 

At seven they were back, ready for a warm 
breakfast and an early start. The sun was just up 
and promised another clear day. The thermos 
was filled with steaming soup for lunch, and Roger 
had so won the landlady’s heart that she insisted 
on his carrying a bag of fresh cookies, the particu¬ 
lar kind her grand-children liked. 

Another two days’ journey brought them to the 
southern border of their own state, and early on 
Friday morning they drove down from the sur¬ 
rounding hills of Cincinnati, through Third Street 
with its heavy traffic, past wharves where ma¬ 
chinery was piled high awaiting shipment on the 
big river boats, and so across the Ohio River into 


BONA VENTURE 


19 


Kentucky. It was the children’s first trip outside 
their own state and held almost the thrill of enter¬ 
ing a foreign country. They were really surprised 
that there was not more difference. But there were 
plenty of interesting sights. In the first town chil¬ 
dren were just starting for school and many 
stopped to look at the big brown car with its large 
glass window in front and its little curtained win¬ 
dows at the sides. And the Ransom children were 
ready to return every friendly wave. 

Those first days it was hard for Marian and 
Bert to keep to their schedule of school work, but 
Mother insisted and agreed that Father should 
call them all whenever there was anything they 
ought not to miss. 

The rolling country of central Kentucky, with 
its rounded hills, was still green from the fall 
rains, and they were often reminded that this was 
the Bluegrass section by the horses grazing in the 
pasture lands. There were cattle too, and occas¬ 
ional sheep. In the afternoon they stopped to 
watch men gathering a late crop of tobacco, piling 
the bundles of dark green leaves on a wagon, to be 
carried to the drying-house two miles distant. 
Fields of corn stalks bore witness to another of 
the state’s main crops. 


20 


BONA VENTURE 


Certain indications that they were in the real 
south increased. Colored men and women passed 
them on the roads and were working in the fields. 
Unpainted cabins were scattered along the road or 
set back in the fields, usually under a big tree. All 
were set up from the ground on blocks, with no 
cellars under them. As the end of the day ap¬ 
proached, the field laborers trudged homeward 
across the rough fields, their tin dinner pails catch¬ 
ing the glint of the setting sun. Children played 
about the cabin dooryards and a column of smoke 
rose from each chimney. Soon they were at their 
destination and quite ready for their own supper 
and a long night’s rest. 


CHAPTER IV 


D URING the next morning the first trouble 
with the car occurred, and Bert had to be 
excused from the last hour of school, to help Fa¬ 
ther. It was noon when they finished, and as the 
air was milder they picnicked in a wooded place a 
short distance from the road. When they were al¬ 
most through, two brown-faced youngsters with a 
yellow dog at their heels, emerged from the woods, 
with a pailful of acorns, and gazed with wide-eyed 
surprise. They were bashful at first, but soon made 
friends, the compact sealed with red apples. A 
half-hour had to be spent enjoying Susie and Sam, 
with their real Kentucky twang and their droll 
way of rolling their eyes about. Susie, with her 
sunbonnet removed in the shade, revealed six tight 
little braids. Her pink dress was faded and 
patched, but clean and starched. Sam’s teeth shone 
in a broad smile and he dug his brown toes into 
the dry leaves in an effort to express himself prop¬ 
erly to his new acquaintances. The acorns, it 
seemed, were winter rations for the pig, and must 
be harvested as fast as possible, for there were 
other pigs in the neighborhood to demand a share, 
and oak trees were none too numerous. 


22 


BONA VENTURE 


It was almost dark when they drove into the 
outskirts of the town where they had planned to 
spend their first Sunday. As it promised to be a 
warmer night, all were to stay in the car. They 
soon found an unfenced space where they could 
drive out of the road and be in no one’s way. The 
green portiers which had hung between the living- 
room and the dining-room at home, now served to 
partition off bed-rooms. Roger was so excited over 
Bert sleeping on a shelf over him that they had 
an uproarious time getting to bed, but the long 
day’s drive and the quiet outdoors soon had their 
effect, and sleep was irresistable. 

After breakfast Bert went out to scout for a 
Sunday School and reported four churches within a 
half-mile, and a boy who had invited him to his 
class. “He said I talked awful queer,” Bert re¬ 
lated, “and I said he talked awful queer. So we 
just had to laugh at each other, and now we’re real 
good friends. His name’s Wilson Allison and his 
father has a hardware store down on Main Street, 
and they live in a nice place just around the corner 
from the church, with big trees in the front yard 
and a swing. When I told him we were in a house 
car he said he sure would like to see it. So I told 
him to come around this afternoon and I’d show it 
to him.” 


BONA VENTURE 


23 


As they came in sight of the church an hour 
later, Wilson was waiting at the corner. The sup¬ 
erintendent gave them all a warm welcome, and in 
spite of a difference in accent, they found a Ken¬ 
tucky Sunday School and church much like an Ohio 
one, and enjoyed both. 

On their return to the car Mrs. Ransom was de¬ 
lighted to find how well the fireless cooker had 
done its work in preparing dinner, which was quite 
as hot and savory as if they had been in their own 
dining-room at home. Marian had even found a 
bunch of red berries for the table. 

Wilson’s father walked over with him in the 
afternoon, and after they had looked over the car 
and asked many questions, they took Mr. Ransom 
and Bert for a long walk up a hillside where they 
could look off over the country where they would 
travel tomorrow. A silver line far to the south was 
the Cumberland River, and a short distance be¬ 
yond they would cross the border into Tennessee. 

Although they made an early start in the morn¬ 
ing, Wilson was at the corner of his street to wave 
goodbye. Showers through the morning cleared as 
they approached the Cumberland River. Not very 
wide at this point, it was still an interesting river, 
coming from the mountain range to the east, with 


24 


BONA VENTURE 


many graceful curves through the foothills, on its 
long journey to the Mississippi. Before night they 
were well over the border into Tennessee. Here, 
near the mountains, it was cooler again, but a dry, 
bracing air. It was so clear that the sky seemed 
nearer than usual, and the stars were splendid. 
They all knew the Dipper and the North Star, 
and far toward the south shone the great golden 
orb of Jupiter. There was a bright star on either 
side of the Milky Way and one low in the north¬ 
east, but these they did not know by name. 

Early the next morning they were aroused by 
Roger’s shout, “It’s been snowing,” and looking 
from the windows, it certainly did appear as if 
Old Winter had shaken his mantle over just one 
field, while all the rest were brown. It took a full 
minute for even Father to realize that they were 
seeing their first field of cotton. They all ran 
across the road for a closer view and found long 
rows of small plants, their leaves dry and brown, 
but with the fluffy white boles almost ready to 
drop from the brown calyx. Inside of the soft 
white, one could feel the hard seeds, and Mother 
recalled the story of Eli Whitney’s invention of 
the cotton gin and its revolutionary effect on 
southern agriculture. 


BONA VENTURE 


25 


All day they drove through rolling country 
where rounded green hills surrounded them on 
every side, and as they went farther south there 
were distant blue mountains. In the evening they 
brought out their American History and recalled 
the stirring events which made Chattanooga, Mis¬ 
sionary Ridge and Lookout Mountain famous; 
for they would see all these tomorrow. 


CHAPTER V 


WO hours drive the next morning, through 



X steep roads, brought them to the Tennessee 
River, flowing west with curves about the bases of 
the steep, wooded banks, and so into the city of 
Chattanooga. To the east was the long line of Mis¬ 
sionary Ridge, and the splendid wooded mountain 
to the south, which they had been watching for the 
past hour, was really Lookout Mountain. 

After a short drive about the city, they went to 
the foot of the mountain, where a narrow gauge 
train carried them to the top. For children who 
had never before seen mountains, it was a thrilling 
experience, and when they reached the top, the 
view was really magnificent. An elderly man, 
pleased by their enthusiasm, pointed out interest¬ 
ing features and assured them that, in this clear at¬ 
mosphere, they were actually looking into seven 
different states. They lunched at the foot of the 
mountain and started on, crossing another state 
line during the afternoon and coming into Geor¬ 
gia. And now the long mountain drive began to 
show its effect and some engine trouble developed. 
Mr. Ransom and Bert tinkered for a long time, 


BONA VENTURE 


27 


but were forced to decide that they needed expert 
advice this time. 

The town where they had expected to spend the 
night was still far ahead, but as they turned a steep 
curve, there, below them, like a crescent on the 
side of the mountain, was the prettiest small vil¬ 
lage, looking like a bit of New England with its 
white-painted houses and barns, picket fences, 
great spreading trees, and vine-covered trellises. 
It had such a welcome look, with the slanting rays 
of sunlight resting on the roofs and glinting on a 
window here and there. As they drove slowly 
along the road which ran through the center of the 
crescent, a man standing at a gate on the upper 
side, raised his hand in friendly salute. Mr. Ran¬ 
som drew up at the side of the road and went over 
to speak to him. It was a full twenty minutes be¬ 
fore he came back to report. 

The nearest garage was six miles distant. While 
he took the Bona Venture there Mrs. Ransom and 
the children would be welcome here at Hillside 
Farm; and in case he had to leave the car over 
night a man on the place would be taking a load of 
potatoes into town later and could bring him back. 
There was a recently vacated cottage where they 
could spend the night. They hesitated to take ad- 


28 


BONA VENTURE 


vantage of such courtesy from a stranger, but 
when Mr. Wainwright was joined by his wife who 
was equally urgent, that they should stay, they ac¬ 
cepted the kindness offered. Mr. Ransom drove on 
the six miles to the garage and returned later to 
report that the mechanic had located the trouble 
and would try to have the car ready by nine in the 
morning. 

Mrs. Ransom had already learned that the 
Wainwrights, as well as most of their neighbors, 
were New Englanders, but had settled here in 
Northwestern Georgia some twenty years ago. In 
each family who came there had been someone for 
whom the rigors of the northern winters had be¬ 
come too severe. And here, while the climate was 
mild, there was a bracing quality in the mountain 
air which kept them all fit, both winter and 
summer. 

Every house in the community had its own gar¬ 
den and chickens, and several people, like Mr. 
Wainwright had considerable farm land. A large 
part of his acreage was in peach trees, with some 
apples and two large fields of potatoes. During 
the summer he had a gardner to help him with the 
work, and it was he and his family who had just 
vacated the cottage to go farther south for winter 


BONA VENTURE 


29 


work. Mr. Wainwright and Hiram, who had come 
with him from the north, could take care of their 
work through the winter, chopping wood for the 
open fires and kitchen stove, feeding stock and 
chickens, and all the repairs that would put build¬ 
ings, wagons and tools in readiness for the busy 
spring days. 

The evening passed quickly and they set out for 
the nearby cottage, Mrs. Wainwright and Joan 
each with an armful of linen and blankets. While 
the girls made up the beds, and Roger tumbled in¬ 
to his as soon as it was ready, Mrs. Wainwright 
showed Mrs. Ransom about the pleasant little 
house. Bert and his father stayed outdoors awhile 
with Mr. Wainwright to watch the stars, for here 
was a chance to learn the names of the bright ones 
they did not know. Mr. Wainwright’s years of 
country life and an inquiring mind had brought 
him an intimate knowledge of all nature’s wonder¬ 
land, and he talked about outdoor things in so in¬ 
teresting a way as to make others eager to learn 
too. 

Mr. Ransom slipped out early in the morning, 
for he wanted to see this interesting place before 
he started on his six mile tramp to get the car. He 
went over the orchard and fields, had a view of 


30 


BONA VENTURE 


woodland stretching up a slope, stopped in the 
barn where Hiram was harnessing the mule, ready 
for the day’s work of hauling firewood for winter 
use, and was back in time for breakfast. Mr. 
Wainwright offered to have Hiram drive him in 
to the garage, but Mr. Ransom insisted that, after 
so much sitting still in the car, six miles in this fine 
air and partly downhill, would be beneficial. After 
he had paid their board, assuring their host that 
they had received much for which they could not 
pay, they still lingered at the gate in apparently 
serious discussion. Then Mr. Ransom was off 
down the road past other pleasant homes with 
women in the door-yards and men with mules at 
work in the fields. The church stood back from the 
road, its white spire pointing high; and beyond 
was the school, a young man who acted as janitor 
just opening the doors for the day. 

The mechanic had gone to work at an early hour 
and had almost finished the job. So by ten o’clock 
they were again on their way. All day the road was 
down a gradual slope from the higher mountains 
to the foothills, and at night they made their camp 
in the level country of central Georgia. A soft 
haze hung over the horizon where the setting sun 
left a pink glow and the air was warmer than at 
any time before. 


BONA VENTURE 


31 


All the next day they drove through pleasant 
towns and stretches of country with peach and pe¬ 
can orchards and cotton fields already picked. Fine 
old Colonial homes, with pillared porticos, were 
set well back from the residence streets in the 
larger towns, with green lawns and magnolia 
trees. Roses were in bloom in the gardens and 
vines covered fences with luxuriant masses. 


CHAPTER VI 


S ATURDAY morning they ran into the pine 
barrens of southeastern Georgia. Often as far 
as they could see on either side were tall slim trees, 
their rough trunks topped by clusters of long 
green needles. The ground was covered with dry 
brown grass and green scrub palmettos. In some 
sections small red pots were hung on the trees, 
with diagonal cuttings in the bark above them. 
These were to collect turpentine, as in the north 
the maples are tapped in the spring for their sweet 
sap. 

It was almost dusk when they reached the St. 
Mary’s River and crossed into Florida. In another 
hour they saw the lights of a large city only a few 
miles ahead and knew they were approaching 
Jacksonville. Here, for the first time, they were di¬ 
rected to a tourist camp. As it was early in the sea¬ 
son, there was no crowd. A large dining-room was 
provided and tents for those who wished them. 
But they found a quiet corner for the Bona Ven¬ 
ture and stayed there. 

Sunday morning a street car line took them to 
church in the city and in the afternoon they drove 


BONA VENTURE 


33 


out to Atlantic Beach, where the children could 
have their first view of the ocean. 

Monday they were off early, stopping at the 
Chamber of Commerce, where Mr. Ransom se¬ 
cured some information about the best locations 
for finding work and a supply of leaflets describing 
the attractions of various towns. Another inter¬ 
esting experience came in crossing the St. Johns 
River. The massive bridge swung across that great 
highway to the ocean gave a view of the docks 
where ocean liners lay, awaiting cargoes for va¬ 
rious ports. In mid-stream one of the Clyde Line 
passenger boats was steaming out, bound for New 
York, and they could see the passengers on her 
deck still waving farewell to friends on the pier. 

South Jacksonville and the smaller settlements 
along the way showed dooryards full of trees and 
flowers which had a distinctly tropical appearance, 
and they were constantly wondering what they 
were. Two hours brought them to St. Augustine, 
and here, at the oldest city in the United States, 
they must stop for a short time. Marian’s kodak 
made records of the Sea Wall, the old city gates, 
Fort Marion, the narrow streets of the old city 
and the reproductions of Spanish architecture in 
the newer section. They visited the cathedral and 


34 


BONA VENTURE 


sat for a half-hour in the park to listen to a band 
concert. 

The road southward led, for a time, through 
salt marshes covered with sedge grass, with spaces 
of water between. Farther on they came to a truck 
garden district, where men were hoeing and plant¬ 
ing, preparing for the northern market’s winter 
demand for potatoes, beans, celery and straw¬ 
berries. Small settlements were scattered along 
the way, some looking quite new, with freshly 
painted square cottages set up on blocks, in lieu of 
the foundation and cellar so necessary in the 
north. Clusters of unpainted negroes’ cabins were 
often gay with flowering plants in tin cans and 
boxes. In the back yards were big black pots, with 
women at work boiling clothes over a fire of pine 
sticks, or bending over nearby tubs, while lines of 
clean garments fluttered in the southeast breeze. 

During the past two days they had seen an oc¬ 
casional orange tree, but now they began to see 
whole groves, the glossy leaves shining in the sun, 
and the fruit beginning to color. It was difficult to 
travel fast today, with so much that was new to 
see and to w T onder about. They were always want¬ 
ing to stop and ask questions about something. 
Mr. Ransom was already inquiring for work in 


BONA VENTURE 


35 


each place which looked at all promising. While 
there were some possibilities, none promised any 
permanent employment, so he decided to go on at 
least another day’s journey. The night was spent 
in a charming town, an old Spanish settlement with 
landmarks of an earlier history. Here they were 
on the Indian River, with luxurience of palm trees 
and moss-garlanded live oaks. 

In the morning the sun rose clear and warm, 
and they made an early start. For long stretches 
the road ran near the river. Long-legged herons 
stood in the edge of the shallow water, with a 
wary eye for fish, while little sandpipers ran along 
the sand, picking up tidbits to their liking. And 
once, most thrilling of all, a great brown pelican 
flew circling over the water, swooping low wher¬ 
ever he suspected a fish. They knew him from the 
picture in Bert’s Natural History, and had to stop 
and watch him until he turned and headed north. 

They lunched on a bluff overlooking the river, 
which seemed miles wide at that point; but as they 
drove farther south it narrowed to about a mile. 
Opposite was a large island, and they knew from 
their maps that on the other side of that lay the 
ocean. Now mile after mile they followed a road 
which had once been an Indian trail. Sometimes 


36 


BONA VENTURE 


they were high above the shore and sometimes 
down beside it, where the afternoon breeze rolled 
in white-capped waves to ripple over the sand or 
break against the bank with a dash of spray. Curve 
after curve gave lovely views from one point to 
another across little bays. And always it was a 
palm-fringed shore, their fronds rustling in the 
breeze. 


CHAPTER VII 


I ATE in the afternoon they stopped at a serv- 
-4 ice station set back from the road, with a 
ridge of woodland behind it, and were glad to ac¬ 
cept an invitation to park the Bona Venture in this 
lovely spot for the night. A long, narrow road 
leading west over the ridge was particularly invit¬ 
ing for a walk before dark. Great live oaks lined 
both sides, with Spanish moss hanging in garlands 
from the branches. Squirrels with sleek gray 
bodies and quizzical little faces peered down from 
the branches, and a bird somewhere ahead sound¬ 
ed a clear whistling note. When they reached the 
crest the sun was just setting, turning to gold the 
whole western sky, with tall, slender palmettos sil¬ 
houetted against it. From the summit of the ridge 
they saw that the land back of it, sloping gently to 
the west, was in orange groves, hundreds of acres 
of fine trees. Then, turning, they exclaimed at the 
beauty of the scene to the east. Over the tops of 
the trees they had passed in coming up lay the 
broad expanse of the river, a soft pink along the 
further shore, with rose-flushed clouds above. 
They stayed to watch the brief southern after¬ 
glow, then returned for a late supper. 


38 


BONA VENTURE 


Afterward Mr. Ransom found the post office 
and general store. While making a few purchases 
he asked about work of any sort in this locality. 
The store-keeper had heard that men were wanted 
for road work in the back country some fifteen 
miles south. Mr. Ransom wrote down all the di¬ 
rections and was going out when an elderly gentle¬ 
man joined him and asked casually from which 
state he had come. His own home was in Pennsyl¬ 
vania, but he had large groves here and had just 
come down for the winter, the sixteenth he and his 
wife had spent in this community. “There is noth¬ 
ing finer than this Indian River country for grow¬ 
ing citrus fruits,” he asserted, “but it requires con¬ 
stant care and considerable expense. Too many 
new-comers expect to buy a grove and sit down 
and watch it grow. Of course, they are disap¬ 
pointed with the result—small crops, poor quality 
and consequently low prices. Did I understand you 
were looking for work here?” Mr. Ransom ex¬ 
plained that they had come to try the climate for 
his wife’s health, and that while his experience for 
some years had been in machine shops, he had 
done farm work as a young man and would like to 
try anything that offered. They walked along in 
silence for a few moments; then Mr. Grant said, 


BONA VENTURE 


39 


“When I was in town this morning I met a friend 
who has a grove on the island. A man who had 
been with him for several years left to take a job 
across the state where his wife’s folks live; and 
the one who took his place isn’t up to it and thinks 
the work too hard, so he’s looking for another. He 
would probably want someone with experience in 
grove work, but you might go over and see him.” 
Mr. Ransom expressed his appreciation and 
walked up to Mr. Grant’s home where he wrote a 
note for him to take and gave him directions. 
Then he hurried back to the Bona Venture. The 
children were already asleep, but he and Mrs. 
Ransom sat out in front and talked it over. They 
felt like children themselves, as little thrills of an¬ 
ticipation ran through them. “Of course,” they re¬ 
minded each other, “we probably won’t get it, but 
if we should!” 

The sun was just rising over the island as they 
started, throwing slanting gold rays across the 
river and shining on several white boat houses on 
the other side. A few miles brought them to the 
business town of Dunstan. Running along past its 
docks and warehouses, they came to the long nar¬ 
row bridge to the island. “A full mile,” the bridge- 
tender told them, as they paid their toll and rat- 


40 


BONA VENTURE 


tied across the draw. A few early fishermen had 
lines out waiting for a catch. At the east end the 
water was shallow, with long docks for small 
boats to land. A short distance from the bridge 
they turned north, driving slowly, so they might 
not miss the name on the gate-post. There were 
fine groves on both sides of the road, with an oc¬ 
casional uncleared space of pine trees, fragrant as 
they drove through it. It was a county road, nar¬ 
row with grassy borders, wild flowers and under¬ 
brush where birds flew back and forth. Colored 
children ran out of their cabins to see the car, and 
women were already making fires under the big 
black pots, or hanging out clothes on the lines. 
And in time they came to a gate with the name 
that was on the letter, Cyrus F. Waite. 

A long road led west between well-kept orange 
groves. As it was narrow they left the Bona Ven¬ 
ture at one side of the main highway and all got 
out for a walk while Mr. Ransom went in. Enter¬ 
ing at the back, he found a low rambling house fac¬ 
ing the river, with great live oaks and hickory 
trees at the back and south side. He sent the letter 
in and waited on a sunny back veranda. 

When Mr. Waite opened the letter he read as 
follows: 


BONA VENTURE 


41 


My dear friend: 

The man I am sending to you, John Ransom by 
name, is known to me only through a half-hour’s 
conversation this evening, when I met him at our 
store. He has brought his family south for his wife’s 
health, traveling from Ohio in a house-car. Some¬ 
how I liked the man’s quiet assurance and willing¬ 
ness to try his hand at whatever work he could find 
for the winter. I recalled my conversation with you 
this morning and suggested he see you. If he doesn’t 
appeal to you, just dismiss him and put me down as 
a sentimental old fellow, but always 
Your friend, 

THOMAS GRANT. 

John Ransom was examining the great twisted 
trunks of a vine which grew at one end of the ve¬ 
randa, when the door opened and a tall, gray¬ 
haired man stepped out. Clad in puttees and khaki 
suit, he was a sturdy figure, with sunburned face 
and keen gray eyes. After twenty minutes’ conver¬ 
sation, his caller felt more ignorant than ever be¬ 
fore in his life, but he still clung to the belief that 
he could learn the science of citrus culture and 
learn it quickly, if he were given the chance, and 
that the mqscle developed over a factory bench 
would serve as well to wield a hoe. 


42 


BONA VENTURE 


In the end Mr. Waite admitted that, if he could 
get a man with experience, he would certainly take 
him, but it was late in the season to find anyone 
for so responsible a position. “Of course,” he said 
“I’ve grown up in the work, done everything, 
planting, budding, pruning, fertilizing, spraying, 
picking and packing, and I’ve taught a dozen 
other men the job. But now I’m taking it easier. 
For four years I’ve had a good man who needed 
only advice and oversight. If I took you I’d have 
to get down to work again or, as like as not, my 
returns would be ten per cent, short next spring.” 
Then he fired a volley of questions. “Ever super¬ 
vised other men? Never even driven a mule, I ex¬ 
pect. What about this family of yours? How many 
children, did you say, and how old? They couldn’t 
be under foot all the time. Will they mind and 
stay where they are told? Yes, I’ll take a look at 
them.” 

John Ransom found his family in a shady spot 
half way down the lane, starting school work, and 
the tall man striding along behind, overtook him. 
His bluntness softened a little before Mrs. Ran¬ 
som and the three merry, but well-mannered chil¬ 
dren. In five minutes he had made his decision. “If 
I try you for two weeks, Ransom, can you live in 


BONA VENTURE 


43 


your car that long? There’s a comfortable house 
across the road, but there would have to be extra 
beds for this bunch. The other man had no chil¬ 
dren. I didn’t think I’d ever bother with one that 
had. They’ll have to go to school, of course, across 
the river, but there’s a bus to take them.” This 
news was greeted with subdued thrills by Marian 
and Bert. Then Mr. Waite pinched Roger’s rosy 
cheek and took them to pick their first oranges 
from an early tree. “They are nothing to what you 
will get six weeks from now—if you stay,” he 
added. “This man of yours thinks he can do any¬ 
thing, but I’ll have to see.” Then he showed them 
a place where the car could be driven into the edge 
of a grove of tall pines, took a look over the in¬ 
terior, and told Mr. Ransom to report for work at 
twelve-thirty. 


« 


CHAPTER VIII 


T HAT night and the next three John Ransom 
went to bed with every muscle aching and his 
mind full of formulas for insecticides and fungi¬ 
cides and the proper diagnosis for white fly, citrus 
canker, cottony cushion scale and dry rot. But he 
still clung to his determination to stick to the job, 
and felt that he was purposely being put through a 
severe testing. How could he give up with Mar¬ 
tha’s cheeks growing pinker and her cough less 
troublesome in the pine-scented air? School had 
been held every morning, and in the afternoon 
Mrs. Ransom and the children had explored the 
neighborhood, finding among the trees and flowers 
both old friends and new acquaintances. They 
were already on intimate terms with mocking 
birds, cardinals and the small brown ground 
doves; and they caught glimpses of tiny birds who 
flitted about among the trees so rapidly it was 
hard to see their markings. The people they met 
on the road spoke pleasantly. They found a little 
white church a half-mile north and a general store, 
with one corner for the post-office about the same 
distance south. And at the side of it a lane led 


BONA VENTURE 


45 


down to the river, where one could sit and watch 
boats passing, and see the curving shore line on the 
other side, with its wooded banks. 

On Sunday morning it seemed bliss to John Ran¬ 
som to lie on a blanket under the pine trees, their 
clusters of dark green needles etched against the 
deep blue sky. But at half-past ten he was ready, 
with the others, for the walk to church. A bell in 
the spire was just ringing as they reached there, 
and the city-bred children were surprised to find a 
man in the vestibule was pulling it by a rope. It 
was odd to be sitting in church and hear a cardinal 
whistling in an orange tree just outside the open 
window. The service was simple but worshipful, 
and afterward the new-comers were made welcome 
by the minister and many others. An announce¬ 
ment had been made that the plan to organize a 
Sunday School was progressing, and all parents 
and children interested were invited to meet at 
four that afternoon at the home of Miss Lucia 
Wales. She gave the invitation to the Ransoms 
personally after service, saying that they would be 
so glad to have three more children, and they 
promised to come. 

After dinner Mr. Ransom wrote a long letter 
to the friends with whom he had worked at home, 


46 


BONA VENTURE 


telling them of the trip in the Bona Venture, who 
had lived up to her name, of first impressions of 
Florida and hopes for the future, and assuring 
them of the comfort they had added to the trip by 
their thoughtful gifts. 

Miss Wales’ home was at the end of one of the 
long lanes which led from the highway to the 
river. They found the house, a rustic brown build¬ 
ing, quite surrounded by trees and shrubbery, ex¬ 
cept a sunny space in front of the porch. Miss 
Wales came to meet them and introduced them to 
the dozen children already there, a few older peo¬ 
ple and her father and aunt. With some later ar¬ 
rivals it made quite a group, filling the porch and 
steps, while the minister stood on the ground in 
front and looked up at his audience instead of 
down. They sang the old familiar hymns which 
they knew without books, had prayer and scripture 
reading and a short talk, and decided to start a 
regular school next Sunday morning. As they 
closed, the setting sun was shining across the river, 
turning it to gold, and as they walked home clouds 
in the northwest were rosy with the afterglow. 

On Monday Mr. Waite had business at the 
county seat. So he planned the work for the day 
and left Mr. Ransom in charge of three helpers. 


BONA VENTURE 


47 


After the constant oversight of the past week, this 
was a new experience, no easier work, but a chance 
to find himself and to practice what he had 
learned. On Tuesday Mr. Waite planned the work 
again and made occasional trips through the 
grove, making a correction here and there, and at 
the end of the day he said, “Well, Ransom, I guess 
you’ll do. If you still want the job and can keep up 
this pace, I’m satisfied. Mrs. Waite will be home 
from Jacksonville tomorrow and will have the 
cottage put in order for you, and I’ll make ar¬ 
rangements for the children at the Dunstan 
school. 

Supper was in the nature of a celebration that 
night. Father forgot that his back ached, and no¬ 
body minded that a downpour of rain had begun. 
Mother thought of spreading out into a whole 
house again, and the children were eager for the 
fun of a ride across the river twice a day. 

Wednesday morning Mrs. Ransom and the 
children set off for market, wondering what the 
meager supplies of the general store would offer 
for a Thanksgiving feast. They were cheered to 
see a box of cranberries out in front and some big 
red apples, quite reminiscent of the north. Mrs. 
Ransom had asked some days ago if a roasting 


48 


BONA VENTURE 


chicken could be had, and now the proprietor 
came out to say, “Well, ma’am, I ain’t got no 
roasting chicken, but I got a fine fryin’ hen.” The 
two baskets were soon filled. Bert carried one, 
with frequent offers of assistance from Roger, and 
Mrs. Ransom and Marian took turns with the 
other. They laughed all the way home over the 
“fryin’ hen” and made quite a lark over the pre¬ 
parations for the feast. In the midst of them Mrs. 
Waite called and found Bert on the steps, in a 
blue gingham apron, cracking nuts, while Marian 
was filling glasses with cranberry jelly, whose fra¬ 
grance floated out through the open door. The 
two chairs were already outside, so Mrs. Ransom 
could sit there with her guest. Later they walked 
over to the cottage to see where the extra beds 
should be placed. 


CHAPTER IX 


O N Thanksgiving Day Mr. Ransom had some 
work in the grove, but was through before 
noon; so dinner was served promptly to give time 
for a ride in the afternoon. The fryin’ hen proved 
delectable, sweet potatoes had a special southern 
flavor and the pie was quite like those back home. 

For the ride they chose the road which led zig- 
zaging across the island to the ocean. Only three 
miles in a straight line, it was eight by the road, as 
there were large swampy areas to be avoided. 
Sometimes there were pine woods on both sides 
and long vistas of road ahead. Then they would 
come out into open spaces, where tall grasses 
waved in the breeze and stretches of water shone 
in the sunshine. Great blue herons stood knee- 
deep, watching for fish, or spread broad wings and 
flew low over the water, their long legs straight 
out behind. Once they saw a small white heron 
with graceful crest. A fish jumped from the water 
and came down with a splash, sending ripples in 
widening circles to the bank. They were driving 
slowly when Mr. Ransom gave a quick glance be¬ 
hind and put on the brake. Then, with a whis- 


50 


BONA VENTURE 


pered, “Watch over there,” he backed cautiously 
a few feet. And there, across a narrow stretch of 
water, with his head on the mud bank and his 
body half under the water, lay a small alligator. 
His sleepy eyes looked disdainfully at the in¬ 
truders and, as the children were unable to sup¬ 
press shouts of delight at their first real live ’ga¬ 
tor, he slid off the bank and disappeared. They 
crossed a short bridge, wound back and forth on 
the higher ground, and came in sight of a broad 
river with a long narrow bridge and a toll house. 
A dozen men and boys were fishing from the rail, 
the wet scales of their catch glistening in the sun. 
A mile farther on a causeway led across more wa¬ 
ter, and when they reached the top of the sand 
bluff beyond, there lay the ocean, deep blue-green, 
with combers rolling in. 

There were people in bathing and sitting on the 
sand, but to their surprise there were also automo¬ 
biles running along close to the water. When they 
drove down with the rest they found that this sand 
was so hard that the tires ran over it like asphalt, 
and so broad that six cars could travel abreast. It 
was splendid running along so, with the soft salt 
breeze on one’s face. White sea gulls circled over¬ 
head and tiny brown sand-pipers ran along in the 


BONA VENTURE 


51 


edge of the water, their thin little legs reflected 
oddly in the wet sand. When they had gone some 
distance and were going to turn back, Marian 
said, “Father, can you see something tall way 
over there? It looks like a smoke-stack.” They all 
looked in the direction in which she pointed, and 
one after the other discovered the tall, straight 
line dimly visible against the sky, and seeming to 
rise out of the ocean. A man who had left his car 
nearby came past, and they asked him about it. 
“Oh, that’s Wayland Light,” he explained. “The 
cape juts out there and its a very important light, 
keeps small craft from running ashore, and pro¬ 
vides a harbor for even large boats in severe 
storms. You should go up and see it sometime, if 
you’re staying about here. There’s a fair road 
across the island, through Orville and Samara.” 

They drove south again and spent an hour hunt¬ 
ing for shells on the beach. Roger was most suc¬ 
cessful, with a star fish to his credit. Then they 
built a sand castle which was so pretty they wished 
they could take it home. Once they saw a ship far 
out on the horizon. She was north-bound, with a 
trail of smoke in her wake, and each guessed for 
what port she was bound and what cargo she car¬ 
ried, and wondered which was nearest right. But 


52 


BONA VENTURE 


the sun was dropping toward the west and if they 
were to be home before dark they must start. The 
first holiday in Florida had been a success. 

On Friday the cottage was made ready for 
them, and when Mr. Ransom came home he ran 
the car over close to it and they moved in. By Sat¬ 
urday night they were quite settled, with even a 
woodpile in the shed. There were big oak logs for 
the fire-place on cool days and smaller sticks of 
“fat pine” to start a blaze. 

The new Sunday School started off well with 
twenty children, six native Floridians and the 
others from Georgia, North Carolina, New York, 
Connecticutt and Ohio. Miss Wales taught the 
girls’ class, Mr. Pinder the boys’ and Mrs. Lloyd 
had a group of five little children. They closed fif¬ 
teen minutes before church began, so there was 
time for a walk to the river and back before the 
bell called them in. As the afternoon was showerv 
they read and wrote letters. By five o’clock it was 
only a light sprinkle, so Father and Marian and 
Bert took the letters to the post-office, as Mother 
was expecting a letter from her sister, and the 
mail from the north would be due. The man was 
just driving in as they reached there, with two bags 
of mail in a battered car, dignified with a card- 


BONA VENTURE 


53 


board sign “U. S. Mail.” There was quite a crowd 
in front of the row of boxes, and the sorting took 
some time. But the letter from Aunt Alice was 
there and a picture postcard for Marian from a 
friend who had been away on a Thanksgiving trip; 
so they were glad they had come, and the fresh 
moist air was pleasant and made them hungry for 
the good tea Mother had ready for them. There 
was always a Sunday night “sing” before bed time, 
and that must be early tonight, with all the excite¬ 
ment of starting school tomorrow. 


CHAPTER X 


B ERT was at the road a half-hour early to 
make sure that the bus stopped for them. 
Mother was going too, for this would be Roger’s 
first day at school, and she wanted to see him well 
started. Sandwiches and cookies were packed in 
three small boxes, school books which might be of 
use were strapped together, and all were at the 
road when the long bus drew up for them. There 
were only four children from farther north, but 
others were waiting all along the way, and it was 
a merry crowd which drove across the bridge, 
rumbled over the planks of the draw, crossed the 
town, and drew up at a large low building with a 
flag flying over the door. 

Mrs. Ransom met each of the teachers, talked 
over the courses the children would have and the 
new books needed, and spent an hour in the first 
grade room. By that time Roger seemed quite at 
home and interested in the lessons, as much play 
as work. There were various errands to be done, 
two rolls of film to be taken to the photographer, 
staple supplies to be ordered from the grocer, and 
more working clothes to buy for Mr. Ransom. So 


BONA VENTURE 


55 


the morning passed quickly, and at one o’clock she 
called for Roger. While they waited for the older 
children they sat on a bench by the river, where 
they could see boats passing and noticed a great 
flock of small black and white ducks. Later they 
learned that these were just making their fall mi¬ 
gration from the northern states, through inland 
waterways for hundreds of miles, to winter on the 
Indian River. 

By the end of the week they were all accus¬ 
tomed again to the regular routine. Mr. Ransom, 
too, was fitting into his new work, finding it less 
exhausting as he became used to it, and quite en¬ 
joying it. On Sunday afternoon he took them all 
for a walk through the grove and garden. Already 
oranges were coloring well and would soon be 
ready to use. Two large grapefruit trees made a 
perfect canopy when one stood under them, the 
great yellow fruit hanging thick overhead and 
bending the outer branches almost to the ground. 
When they lifted a branch with a cluster of four, 
they were surprised at the weight and at the elas¬ 
ticity of the small stalk which supported it. There 
were tangerines, smaller than the other oranges 
and deeper in color, and large King oranges, with 
rough skins, green now, with a bright spot on one 


56 


BONA VENTURE 


side which would spread over them later. Lemons 
and limes and tiny green kumquats on miniature 
trees were all interesting. At one side of the grove 
was a windbrake of banana trees, with here and 
there a bunch of fruit just starting. The large dark 
red blossom was heart-shaped and very heavy. As 
the stalk extended in length, this blossom hung 
downward, one thick leaf at a time turning back to 
disclose, under its smooth lining, a row of small 
yellow and white flowers. These, growing in length 
and circumference, soon took on the shape of 
bananas and formed one “hand” of the bunch. 
The fruit turned up from the stem instead of 
downward, as one sees them in the grocery store. 
Pawpaw trees grew wild with great, scalloped 
leaves spread far out, and yellow blossoms and 
green, melon-shaped fruit clinging close to the 
gray trunk. 

In the garden back of the house the winter vege¬ 
tables were starting, peas in blossom, beans, car¬ 
rots, beets and cabbage and a row of bright green, 
curly parsley which looked like a hedge in its vig¬ 
orous growth. Strawberries were small, circular 
plants, which produced no runners, but had to be 
set out each season. Along the south fence was a 
row of pineapples, two with deep red blossoms in 


BONA VENTURE 


57 


the center of the long spikes of foliage. A gor¬ 
geous mass of bougainvillea covered the garage 
and butterflies flitted from blossom to blossom. 
The lane which led to the house was bordered by 
poinsettias. Already the bright red blossoms gave 
a holiday air, although there was nothing in the 
weather to suggest the approach of Christmas. 

They tried to make the gifts to relatives and 
friends as typically southern as possible. Mrs. 
Ransom found a neighbor who showed her how to 
make baskets from the brown pine needles which 
could be gathered all about them. She did not at¬ 
tempt elaborate designs, but made one large open 
one, with a cluster of pine-cones on one side and 
several smaller ones, using different colors of raf¬ 
fia to bind the bunches of needles. 

Marian and Bert tried their hands at it too, and 
achieved very pretty tea pot stands. From the rip¬ 
est orange and grapefruit drops a delicious mar¬ 
malade was made, and another neighbor was glad 
to sell some of the guava juice she had canned in 
the summer for making jelly. At first the cost and 
risk of sending glass seemed a difficulty, but was 
solved by finding parafined paper containers. 
These, packed in moss, should carry well. In 
school Roger’s class made calendars and blotters 


58 


BONA VENTURE 


with Christmas cards, and when the kodak pic¬ 
tures were finished, they decided to use those in 
the same way. Most of them proved very good and 
delightful reminders of the Bona Venture trip. 
There was Marian’s class and the group of the 
Wren Street neighbors to bring memories of the 
home folks. There was the campus of the college 
town where they stopped the first day, and the 
chapel with its stately spire. They could almost 
hear the lovely tones of the chimes. There was the 
broad Ohio River and its shipping. There were 
Susie and Sam, with the pigtails and the smile and 
the yellow dog all there. There were lovely views 
of the Cumberland River, and scenes about Chat¬ 
tanooga, with some of the family and the Bona 
Venture figuring in most of them. And there was 
the Wainwright farm in Georgia, with Mr. and 
Mrs. Wainwright and Joan at the gate. Then 
came the first tropical scenes, palm trees, orange 
groves and live oaks; and last of all, views along 
the Indian River, Thanksgiving Day at the ocean 
beach, and the cottage with the pines at its back 
and vines and shrubbery in front, which was be¬ 
ginning to seem like home. 


CHAPTER XI 


M RS. RANSOM had often noticed a small 
house on one of the large grove properties 
a half-mile south, which seemed empty. When she 
passed the week before Christmas the door and 
windows were open, and she heard a baby crying 
inside. As she came back from the store a young 
woman was sitting on the steps with the baby, and 
a small boy was playing on the walk. The mother 
looked so young and so flushed and tired that Mrs. 
Ransom ventured to stop. They had come from 
across the state only two days before. Work was 
so scarce there, and her husband had heard of this 
place through a friend. But she had never lived 
away from her mother and sisters before, and the 
baby was so fretty after the long trip, and the 
stove smoked, and the steak for dinner was so 
tough, and if they could only have waited until 
after Christmas. It all tumbled out into the ears 
of the first sympathetic listener she had found. 

When Mrs. Ransom left, the baby was asleep, 
the wicks of the oil stove were adjusted, and the 
young housekeeper had learned such a nice way to 
fix over for tomorrow the steak that had been too 


60 


BONA VENTURE 


tough for today, and how her husband could make 
kitchen cupboards out of empty boxes; and tran¬ 
quility had settled over the little house. Whenever 
Mrs. Lester was lonely or discouraged now, she 
could remember that there was a friendly neighbor 
a half-mile up the road. 

And so it happened that on Saturday, with 
Christmas only three days distant, the Ransoms 
voted to invite the newcomers to have Christmas 
dinner with them, and the invitation was promptly 
accepted. Saturday night they drove over to town 
for a few purchases, supplies for the feast and 
toys for the small guests. 

On Christmas eve “the stockings were hung by 
the chimney with care,” and by morning were bulg¬ 
ing with interesting little packages, home-made 
candy and nuts, a toy mule for Roger, a roll of 
kodak film for Marian, a Bird Guide for Bert, an 
orange wood fork and spoon for Mother and a 
subscription to the local newspaper for Father. 
After breakfast came the opening of packages 
from relatives and friends in the north. They all 
seemed to have thought of such nice gifts, things 
which would add comfort and pleasure to the new 
home. The papers and ribbons and boxes were 
finally gathered up, the table set, and everything 



BONA VENTURE 


61 


ready when they saw their guests coming up the 
road. Three-year old Harold was shy at first, but 
soon won by the friendly Roger, and the baby, 
fresh from a long nap, was ready to laugh and 
play with anyone. Mr. Ransom found Mr. Lester 
an intelligent young man, anxious to make good in 
his new position until he could find something in 
their home town, where just now work was un¬ 
usually scarce, but promised better in a year or 
two. 

In spite of a bit of longing for the home folks 
and the home scenes on the part of both hosts 
and guests, they made a merry time of dinner. 
Bert and Marian found it great fun to astonish 
these southerners with tales of coasting and skat¬ 
ing. As twilight was beginning, they sang Christ¬ 
mas carols, and the echo of the lovely words and 
melody floated with the guests down the road. 

The week of vacation for the children passed 
quickly. Mr. Waite let Bert work in the grove 
three mornings, and he learned a great deal that 
was interesting and felt proud of the money 
earned. One afternoon Mrs. Waite asked them to 
the house for a holiday party she was giving for a 
nephew and neice who were visiting her. They 
played games under the great live oaks on the 


62 


BONA VENTURE 


river bank in front of the house, and had refresh¬ 
ments at a long table set beneath a pergola cov¬ 
ered with vines. The mellow afternoon sunshine 
threw shadows of the leaves over the white cloth, 
and touched with sparkle the frosted bells and 
icicles on the little Christmas tree in the center. 

On Saturday it rained hard, and by night the 
wind had shifted into the north and it was sur¬ 
prisingly cold. The fire on the hearth was lighted 
and a good pile of logs brought in. The “fat pine” 
made a splendid blaze, and they were reminded 
that in the mountain cabins of Georgia and North 
Carolina it often furnished the only source of ar¬ 
tificial light. Sunday morning, although the sun 
was out again, the north wind was so strong and 
cold that they drove to church and were glad they 
were early when they found the minister carrying 
in wood, because no one else had thought of it. 
Mr. Ransom and Bert promptly relieved him of 
the task, and soon had a good fire started in the 
little stove in one corner of the room. 

By New Years Day it had warmed up again, 
and they packed up their lunch and drove north¬ 
east across the island to the light-house. The drive 
itself was interesting, for one mile beside a back¬ 
water where pond-lilies grew and tall marsh 


BONA VENTURE 


63 


grasses. Several miles led through pine woods, the 
ground strewn with brown needles and cones, and 
the air fragrant. They gathered quantities of 
needles for basket work, for they had heard of a 
Woman’s Exchange where they might be sold; and 
Mrs. Ransom, when housework was finished, had 
hours when she would be glad to have her fingers 
busy while she sat on the sunny porch or in the 
edge of the pine woods. Now and then they passed 
small settlements, with cleared land planted in 
groves, but there were miles without a house, and 
they met few cars. 

It was almost noon when the tall gray tower 
came in sight and grew larger with every mile. 
The fragrance of pines was left behind and the 
salt ocean breeze blew across the downs. A 
straight road led down to the ocean, with the light¬ 
house on a promontory to the north, and long 
piers and warehouses to the south. They could see 
now what a sheltered harbor it was, and were told 
that, during the storm of Saturday night and Sun¬ 
day nine boats of varying size and draft had taken 
refuge there. Lunch was enjoyed on the curve of 
beach below the light-house, and along the edge 
of the water they found exquisite little rainbow- 
colored shells, a pair of slender white “angel 
wings” and a variety of muscle shells. 


64 


BONA VENTURE 


Mr. Ransom and Marian and Bert climbed the 
winding flight of light-house stairs and were in¬ 
itiated into the mysteries of “tending the light,” 
with enough stories of wrecks averted and rescues 
made to give them a vivid realization of the res¬ 
ponsibility which rests upon the men who, through 
fair weather and foul, keep the lights burning 
along our hundreds of miles of coast. They looked 
out over the rolling Atlantic and back across the 
miles of island they had traversed, and Mother 
and Roger, waving to them from the beach below, 
looked very small. 

Below the light-house, on the north, was the 
Life Saving Station, and there was a drill at half 
past two, when the tide was running high. An old 
two-masted schooner was anchored a quarter mile 
out, to represent a ship in distress. Three men 
rowed out to it and raised distress signals to the 
mast-head. Sharp orders were given on shore. The 
doors grated open, the life boat was pulled down 
the runway, manned by four men in oilskins, who 
bent to the oars as if lives really depended on their 
efforts. Then, as they approached the signalling 
ship, a line shot out across her decks, was hauled 
in by her crew and made fast. In surprisingly short 
time the breeches buoy was sent out over this, a 


BONA VENTURE 


65 


man climbed in and was brought safely to shore, 
followed in turn by each of the others. 

When the breeches buoy came back with the last 
man, the captain of the crew, seeing Bert’s eager 
interest in all the maneuvers, asked if he would 
like a ride in it. His Father’s consent was readily 
gained and, to the astonishment of the rest of the 
family, he was soon dangling in mid-air over the 
Atlantic. It was quite the most thrilling experience 
of his life, and thoroughly enjoyed. When he came 
back, one of the crew was showing Mrs. Ransom 
and Marian through their snug little house, where 
they cooked and scrubbed and even darned their 
own stockings, and had to keep everything as clean 
and shiny as sailors on ship-board. 

And so they started on their long ride home. 
The stars were shining and Roger was sound 
asleep when they reached there, but all agreed 
that it had been a splendid day. 


CHAPTER XII 



'HE following weeks brought more cool days, 


JL but usually with bright sunshine, and al¬ 
though winter clothes and wood fires were com¬ 
fortable night and morning, the middle of the day 
was warmer. Now the groves were beautiful, the 
branches of glossy leaves bending under the 
weight of golden fruit. Often Mr. Ransom 
brought home a basket of drops, sweet juicy 
oranges and big yellow grapefruit, with a pleasant 
acid flavor. One saw trucks of fruit crossing the 
bridge to the large packing houses, and small 
freight boats on the river with decks piled high 
with boxes. 

On the fourteenth they began picking Mr. 
Waite’s grove. The children ran over to see it all 
as soon as they came home from school. Tall lad¬ 
ders reached the tops of the older trees. Each 
picker was equipped with a pair of clippers—for a 
quarter inch of stem must be left on all picked 
fruit—and a canvas bag slung over his shoulder, 
into which the fruit was dropped. When this was 
full it was lifted off, the lower turned-up end loos¬ 
ened, and out tumbled the fruit into a field crate, 


BONA VENTURE 


67 


just enough to fill one side. When the second side 
was filled, the picker stuck in a colored ticket, 
which gave his number. The mule and wagon made 
constant trips to the road with the filled crates, 
while those nearest were carried on wheel-bar¬ 
rows. There they were loaded on an auto truck for 
the trip to the packing house. Mr. Ransom and the 
pickers’ foreman shared the responsibility of keep¬ 
ing exact records of the number of field crates 
which went out. It was an animated scene, and 
most interesting. Marian’s new roll of film, started 
at the light-house, was finished here. 

When Mr. Waite noticed how interested the 
children were, he promised Mr. Ransom a half¬ 
day off later in the season, to take them through a 
packing house. This opportunity came the last 
week in January. Mr. and Mrs. Ransom met the 
children after school and found the long white 
building with one side facing the railroad tracks, 
where a siding was run in for loading the cars. On 
the other side trucks full of fruit were driving up 
and unloading at a long platform. Just inside the 
wide doorway each field crate was set on a stand 
and tipped so that the fruit rolled out onto a mov¬ 
ing track where each orange was gently rolled 
about on a bristle brush while tiny sprays of water 


68 


BONA VENTURE 


played over it. This track moved slowly up an in¬ 
cline, and at the top entered a canvas enclosure 
where fans dried all moisture from the clean fruit. 
Then they rolled onto elevator shelves which car¬ 
ried them to the upper floor. Spreading out on a 
two foot moving platform they were carried past 
young women who deftly removed all culls. Then 
away they went, those hundreds of golden balls, 
down slanting troughs which carried them to the 
bins, the smallest falling through the narrow open¬ 
ing at the first bin, and so on until the very largest 
came to the last bin with its wide opening, the only 
one they could get through. Young women and 
men at the bins worked rapidly, placing each 
orange in a stamped tissue wrapper, giving a single 
twist to the corners, and placing them in the crates 
with such precision that there could be no moving 
about. When full, each crate was placed on a 
track which carried it to the strapping machine, 
where, with a few deft movements, the covers 
were put in place and made fast with metal straps. 
A man with a hand truck made constant trips with 
these finished crates to the pre-cooling rooms 
along the further side of the building. Here the 
temperature was kept at 38°, and they were left 
for some hours before loading into refrigerator 


BONA VENTURE 


69 


cars on the siding below, for their journey to the 
northern markets. 

It was almost dark when they came out, so they 
took supper in town and did a few errands before 
starting home. How different it seemed driving 
across the bridge at night, with the row of lights 
alon£ the side and the red ones at the draw. On 
the island the lights of houses twinkled here and 
there along the wooded shore, and behind them 
the little city was quite ablaze with street lamps 
and signs. 


CHAPTER XIII 


F EBRUARY had its cool days and cooler 
nights, with warm days between, and before 
the end of the month one could actually see Spring 
coming. For they found that even in Florida, 
where there were green trees and flowers all the 
year, there was a real springtime, if you watched 
for it. The oaks were beginning to drop some of 
their leaves as new ones started, and the ground 
was littered in places as it would be in early fall in 
the north. The water oaks were prettiest of all, 
with their bright green foliage taking the place of 
the duller winter leaves. And in the groves fresh 
light green shoots were appearing among the 
glossy darker green, and growing fast. On Feb¬ 
ruary 23rd, Mrs. Ransom found the first orange 
blossoms, just a spray of tiny round white buds. 
But each day they grew a little larger, and by the 
end of the week the trees were full of opening 
blossoms. At night, when the air was heavy with 
dew, the fragrance drifted in through open win¬ 
dows. They all spent hours in the grove, going 
from tree to tree, comparing orange and grape¬ 
fruit, and lemon with its pink buds. As the petals 


BONA VENTURE 


71 


dropped, they watched the little round ball at the 
end of the pistil gradually swell and turn darker 
green, until it was a miniature orange, one of the 
crop to be picked next January. 

One of the spring surprises was the fig tree in 
their own back yard. When they first saw it in No¬ 
vember, they mistook it for a dead tree, among 
all the other green foliage, for it stood gaunt and 
gray with horizontal branches which spread far 
out from the trunk. Such a funny, knobby tree it 
was, with black scars where the leaves had fallen 
off. In March they discovered buds, at the ends of 
the stiff twigs, were pushing off their dry brown 
covering, and with the greatest suddenness, one 
morning, there was a tiny, deeply indented green 
leaf. By night there were a dozen. They seemed to 
expand hourly until, in a few days, the gray 
branches were hidden by layers of broad, spread¬ 
ing leaves. Before they had stopped marveling at 
the quickness of it all, Bert discovered a fig, a little 
pear-shaped green object, standing up on its stem 
in an angle between branch and leaf. In a day or 
two there were more of them. But the curious 
thing was they could never find a blossom. Finally, 
Mr. Ransom asked Mr. Waite, who explained 


72 


BONA VENTURE 


that the fig was one of the few trees whose blos¬ 
som grows inside the fruit. 

Mr. Waite wanted some nursery stock from a 
man at Vendor, thirty miles south on the main¬ 
land. As he had been delayed in sending it and the 
season was already late for planting, he asked 
Mr. Ransom to take the Ford truck and go down 
for them. Then, as an afterthought, he added, 
“Wait until Saturday, if you like, and take the 
family, if they’re not too proud to ride in a truck.” 
Indeed they were not. They fixed seats in the back 
for Marian and Bert, and Roger had a stool in 
front of his Mother. The morning was fine and the 
ride delightful. The road on the mainland ran 
curving along the river, with a rocky shore instead 
of Florida’s usual low sand banks. Live oaks sent 
great branches straight across the road and palms 
bent over the river. Always as they rounded a 
point another came in sight, with curving bays be¬ 
tween, some sheltered enough to form a bit of 
sand beach. Homes lined the roadway, with flow¬ 
ering vines and shrubbery everywhere. Behind 
them groves stretched away to the west. Cars were 
constantly passing. Some of the winter tourists 
were evidently starting north, perhaps to make 
many stops along the way. Others were doubtless 


BONA VENTURE 


73 


local people going from one town to another on 
business or pleasure. 

At noon they had lunch in a cleared spot on the 
river bank. Across the road was a windbrake of 
palmettos and tangled vines, and back of that 
groveland. To the north was a small frame house 
set far back from the road, with flowers in the 
dooryard, and great oak trees and a path leading 
to the gate. As they lunched an elderly lady came 
out, raised her parasol, and started south along 
the road. When she had almost reached them a 
paper fluttered from her bag and Bert ran to pick 
it up. So she stopped in friendly country fashion 
to speak to them. Her soft southern voice and 
well-chosen English attracted Mrs. Ransom at 
once, and they were glad to answer her interested 
questions about their trip. Then the conversation 
turned to her first coming to Florida in a covered 
wagon from South Carolina fifty years ago, with 
her husband and a baby a year old. Those were 
pioneer times indeed, no railway within sixty miles, 
Indians in canoes skimming along the river, or ap¬ 
pearing suddenly at one’s door, but always friend¬ 
ly if treated so. A log cabin had been the first 
home, where the little frame house stood now, and 
her husband, with such casual help as he could get, 


74 


BONA VENTURE 


had cleared ten acres of land and planted them in 
oranges. 

It was slow, tedious work in those days, budding „ 
and grafting and gradually increasing one’s stock; 
for there were no nurseries to buy from, and no 
money for such buying if there had been. The 
first homestead was a government grant, and, as 
prosperity increased, they added to it until they 
had one hundred acres and could keep several men 
employed. Then came that first terrible experience 
of a freeze, and in forty-eight hours the work of 
years seemed undone. It took all the young trees 
and so injured the older ones that the crop was a 
total loss that year and small the next season. But 
they were young and strong, and in a few years 
were beginning to save again. Twice after that 
they went through the same experience, only less 
severe, but refused to be discouraged. Now, since 
her husband’s death three years ago, two sons 
were managing the grove, one living at home with 
her and one married and not far away. The 
daughters were across the state, but home for oc¬ 
casional visits; and the little house could always 
expand somehow to welcome any number of 
grandchildren. 

Her stories were so interesting they all forgot 
the time, but suddenly she remembered that she 


BONA VENTURE 


75 


had a mile to walk into town, and must not be late 
for the missionary meeting. “Usually,” she ex¬ 
plained, “a neighbor with a car calls for me, but 
she is away today and I didn’t want to miss it. In 
the early days my children and housework and 
garden and sewing kept me so busy, there were 
few spare moments, but I always kept up the let¬ 
ters home to relatives and friends, and we always 
managed to have some good reading. Then, as the 
children grew up and the work was lighter, and 
the little town near us developed, I found new in¬ 
terests and places where I could help a bit. Life 
has been so interesting. When I read about these 
poor young people who turn criminals just to ‘get a 
thrill,’ I think if they could only get out and pio¬ 
neer somewhere, they would find real life so good, 
hard work and sickness and sorrow, but through it 
all the deep real joys—family affection, friend¬ 
ship, success won through effort, and the beauty of 
the world about all lifting one up and making 
faith in the Heavenly Father so sure.” 

A half hour before they would have hesitated 
to ask this charming lady in her black silk gown 
to ride in their present equipage, but now they 
knew she would not mind. In ten minutes more 
they had left her at the church door, but were sure 
she was one they would always remember. 


CHAPTER XIV 


W HILE Mr. Ransom filled Mr. Waite’s or- 
der at the nursery, the others went about, 
seeing the very beginnings of citrus culture. There 
were interesting flowering plants, too, with gor¬ 
geous tropical blossoms. At the west end of the 
citrus plantings they found three great loquat trees 
full of fruit, and the ground below strewn with it. 
As they were examining the stiff stalks of pinkish- 
yellow fruit, the owner came past and invited them 
to try it. Rather to their surprise, it was delicious, 
almost a cherry flavor and yet different, with two 
great shiny brown seeds in the center. They were 
urged to pick all they wanted, as the fruit was too 
tender for shipment and there was not much sale 
for it about here. By the time Mr. Ransom was 
ready to leave, they had gathered a large sack full. 
When everything was stowed into the truck 
Marian and Bert had just room enough and must 
watch that nothing jolted out along the way. They 
were glad the days were growing longer, but even 
so a great full moon was rising over the island be¬ 
fore they reached the bridge, making a broad 
path of gold across the river. 


BONA VENTURE 


77 


April came with balmy breezes from the south¬ 
east. Migrant birds were flitting about the groves, 
stopping over on their long journey north. One 
day there was a swarm of white butterflies. They 
seemed to be passing all day, thousands of them, 
over land and river. After sunset every night they 
began to listen for the call of the whip-poor-will 
in the woods, but when they looked for him, they 
could never find him. Mulberries were ripe in 
many dooryards, great luscious ones, which made 
delectable pies. In the fields light blue wild lupin 
flowered in profusion. Mocking birds and car¬ 
dinals sang in the ecstasy of mating and nest¬ 
building. 

The school had an athletic meet. Marian was in 
the May-pole dance. Bert took honors in the 
broad jump, and even Roger showered himself 
with glory when his kite stayed up longer than any 
other. 

They invited the little Sunday School, now 
grown to twenty-six members, for a Saturday 
afternoon picnic with them. They had games for 
the little children and other games for the older 
ones, and Mother told a story as only Mother 
could tell a story, so you listened with both ears 
and watched with both eyes so you wouldn’t miss 


78 


BONA VENTURE 


the least little bit; and you felt just as if you were 
each of the people in the story and doing all the 
delightful things they were doing. And then it al¬ 
ways ended better than you would ever have 
thought it could. When they had refreshments, in 
the center of the table was a big crepe paper 
orange with a strand of raffia running to each 
place, and when each child pulled one the orange 
divided into sections, with a little favor in each. 

So the spring days went by and as April ad¬ 
vanced, a languid warm breeze from the south 
made one feel less energetic, and sometimes glad 
when the big warm sun went down in the west. In 
the coolness and darkness they loved to watch the 
stars, and found that in six months they had 
learned to know them better than ever before. On 
moonlight nights it was like fairyland, with a silver 
shimmer over the river and the land. One strange 
thing about the southern moon was the way it 
would go right up almost to the middle of the sky, 
so you had scarcely any shadow at all unless you 
leaned over to look for it. 

Mr. Ransom knew that the man who had been 
here before him had taken three months off each 
summer, after the June fertilizing was finished. 
The overseer on a nearby place could spend part 


BONA VENTURE 


79 


time at Mr. Waite’s directing such spraying as 
was needed and seeing that all young trees were 
well watered in dry weather. The first of May Mr. 
Waite asked Mr. Ransom if he could make this 
same arrangement and return to him the first of 
October for another season, saying that they were 
welcome to use the cottage for the summer. 

Three days later, while Mr. Ransom was won¬ 
dering what he could find for a three months’ job, 
a letter came from Mr. Wainwright, asking if he 
could help him for the summer. When they talked 
it over that night the thought of the charming little 
settlement of white houses set against a mountain 
slope of north-western Georgia, and of the hos¬ 
pitable family with whom they had spent one 
night in November was very alluring. Mr. Ran¬ 
som was sure that a summer’s work in the peach 
and apple orchards would more than cover the 
expense of the trip, besides giving them all an¬ 
other experience and the tonic of mountain air dur¬ 
ing the hot season. So it was decided and a letter 
was written, saying that they would be there early 
in June. 

This time the packing was easy, for they knew 
the best place in the car for each thing. School 
closed at the end of May. There was good weather 


80 


BONA VENTURE 


for the grove work, and there was no delay in that. 

And so, on an early June morning, the sun, ris¬ 
ing over the pine woods, shone on the Bona Ven¬ 
ture standing at the door, the bags being stowed 
away and the family finding their old accustomed 
seats. And as they rolled down the road, across 
the sparkling river, and turned north, it was with 
hope that the next venture would be as good as 
the first. 







